


Gotta Getcha Head In The Game

by umbrakinetix



Category: Satan and Me (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 19:36:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4150230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umbrakinetix/pseuds/umbrakinetix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If you yell ‘____ likes wiener’ at a straight dude playing basketball, he’ll fuck up his shot” -A superstition shared with me by a guy in PE class</p><p>Sort of HS au??( i never thought it out lmao so everyone is family/friends and idc) where Ipos and Lucifer are talking shit during a game of Around The World, and get a surprise neither of them were betting on. this is really stupid and I take no responsibility for it I wrote it late last night and proofread it just now lmao</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gotta Getcha Head In The Game

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr http://mamakyoko.tumblr.com/post/118896546669/title-gotta-getcha-head-in-the-game-series  
> I KNOW this fic is shit, but it was funny at the time aight

“You’re shittin me, dude.” Two teenaged boys- seniors, by the looks of them- slouched against the wall and surveyed the other kids playing ball with amused interest, one with black hair that made him look like a Danny Zuko wannabe and the other with a shaggy, unstyled blonde mohawk and a considerably better attitude.

“Would I ever lie to you, Lucifer?” The blond-haired one grinned, running a hand through his mohawk as he eyed the court where several other men played Around The World. Lucifer shook his head in exasperation.

“I’m just finding it a little hard to believe, Ipos. Screaming some bullshit dugout song is supposed to ruin a guy’s game, just like that?” He raised one eyebrow, his whole demeanor demanding an answer in a manner not unlike a tyrant king. Instead of replying, Ipos hollered across the yard to the court where their friend and occasional cohort, Uriel, was preparing to shoot.

“Uriel likes wiener!” Loud, uncharacteristic swearing erupted from the man as he missed his shot, and both Lucifer and Ipos broke down guffawing at his enraged expression; luckily, the teens were shielded from his wrathful gaze by a patch of unkempt shrubbery that grew against the building’s corner. Lucifer wiped a tear from his eye.

“No fuckin’ way, man. There is absolutely no way.” He stood up and peered around the corner. Another teenager, this one with reddish brown curls and an aura of kindness palpable even from across the yard, prepared to shoot. Lucifer took a deep breath.

“Gabel likes wiener!” The ball hit the rim and teetered for a moment before falling away, reducing both men to knee-slapping giggles once again. Ipos kicked over a trash can, still chuckling.

“Ah man, gets ‘em every time.”

“And this works on everyone?” Lucifer slid down the wall to join his friend.

“No, according to the myth, it only works on straight men.” Ipos shrugged.“Something about being thrown off psychologically by the idea of liking dick.” Lucifer opened his mouth to answer when Ipos held up a hand and pointed behind him. Michael dribbled the ball a couple times on the court, getting a feel for the weight and bounce as he eyed the hoop. It was an easy shot, practically impossible to miss. He took his stance, knees slightly bent and ready to jump. Across the yard, Lucifer’s eyes widened comically as he watched his least favorite brother prepare to take the shot. He scrabbled across the concrete to the corner of the building and popped his head up over the bushes.

Blue eyes fixing the hoop with a calculated stare, Michael jumped, feeling the ball leave his fingertips just as a voice, boomingly loud and almost childish in its petulance, exploded through the yard, causing multiple games to stop and stare at the scene unfolding before them.

“Michael likes wiener!” The flick of the blond brother’s wrist sent the ball up, up in a perfect arch above the heads of the other players. Lucifer’s eyes widened comically, teeth grit as he hissed curses and threats at the rubber orange of fate. The ball sailed through the air, both Michael and Lucifer watching it like hawks, waiting for the final verdict. The basketball sank into the net, and hit the ground with the finality of a tomb slamming shut. Michael released a victorious hoot, slapping a hand onto Gabe’s back as the latter grinned awkwardly. As Lucifer stood, dumbfounded, watching his brother pick up the ball and pass it to the next player with a big, stupid grin still on his face, Ipos came up behind him and slapped a hand to his shoulder, looking amusedly sympathetic.

“Welp.”

 

Epilogue:

Uriel stomped across the blacktop, fuming. He’d really been messed up by some stupid superstition? As if! He shook his hair out of his eyes and plopped down beside the court where Raphael was practicing his own technique, face twisted into a pout Michael would be proud of.

“What’s wrong, Uriel? You seem troubled.” Raphael flicked the ball up and into the net with a satisfying swish.

“Nothing, it’s just something stupid Lucifer and Ipos were doing.” Uriel glared back towards where his delinquent brother and his friend were screwing around, still feeling wronged.

“I see. Is there anything I could do to help?” Raphael stopped his rapid-fire dribbling to face his friend, basketball tucked under his arm. “Healing relationships is a thing, too.”

“Like I said, it’s Lucifer. I doubt even you would be able to heal whatever the hell’s wrong with him.” Raphael shrugged and turned back to his game. The smaller man crossed his arms grumpily at the lack of a fix for his bad mood before an idea struck him. “Actually…”

“Hm?” Raphael jumped upwards, arms positioned to shoot the ball. Uriel took a deep breath before calling out in the sing-song tone Lucifer sometimes used when bothering people.

“Raphael likes wiener!” The ball sank into the hoop with a satisfying swish, and Raphael turned to Uriel, dumbfounded.

“What…?” All Uriel could do was giggle madly.


End file.
